


Of Monsters and Men

by Clarisse (transnymphtaire)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hadrian raises himself but also not, Horcruxes, Hufflepuff Harry, Immortality, M/M, Monsters, Obsessive Behavior, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:29:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8436802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transnymphtaire/pseuds/Clarisse
Summary: Each child is assigned a monster from their birth until they're at least fifteen years old. Some children gets re-assigned. Some children keeps their monsters their whole life.Some children do both.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> Idea came from http://thewonderfulthingaboutfish.tumblr.com/post/152298543535/starsona-gabbyzvolt25

Each child is assigned a monster upon their birth. In most cases, these monsters stay with them until they reach adulthood; hiding under their beds and in their closets. In some cases, the monsters stay longer. Then there’s the rare cases, like the one currently waiting on his desk, where a child gets re-assigned more than once.

The case that he is currently trying to deal with is a once in a lifetime rarity; there’s no monsters left to assign the child. Except him. He should not have to deal with this, he hasn’t been out on the field in years. He should not even be an option as he’s the chief operating officer in the British department. If it weren’t for the higher-ups quite literally breathing down his neck, he would not even consider doing it; but the protocol says that he can’t leave any children under 15 monster-less and he’s hoping to get a promotion by the end of the year.

It takes surprisingly little time to appoint someone to take care of the assignments while he’s gone, and he can’t help but be frustrated with how meaningless his job suddenly seems. Perhaps getting out in the field will be good for him; he hasn’t practiced being scary on a human in a long while. He could probably do without human culture though.

Too many of his monsters have taken to wear clown costumes to keep the children scared. It’s embarrassing.

As the monster closest related to Death, he will not have to use any such tricks, which is good for his sense of pride if nothing else.

* * *

The bed that he finds himself under is a horribly rickety iron bed, and while the floor seems clean enough he can’t help but feel like the grime is sinking into his skin. For any other monster that would only been part of the allure, but he has never been much like any other monster. There’s a reason that he’s the chief operating officer and they’re not, though cleanliness unlikely play any part in it.

He can’t see much else of the room in the darkness, but it’s okay. He can sense that the only child in the near vicinity is on top of the bed, and that’s all that matters. The child does not seem to be close to sleep though, which makes his job slightly harder. He can either wait - and he does not have the patience for that - or he can try his chances now.

Or the child can take his options away by joining him underneath the bed.

* * *

Hadrian blinks, which is quite a feat as he has a lot more eyes than eyelids. Tom Riddle, his assigned child, is sitting underneath the bed. Staring. At him. He does not know what protocol says about this - he doesn’t think that there’s any protocol for this. He has to write some guidelines for it; assuming he can figure out what to do.

“You look a lot scarier than the other monsters.” Tom says, and it sounds more like an observation than anything else. Hadrian blinks again, slower this time. He knows that his eyes blink out of sync but Tom gives no visible reaction except for trying to follow the pattern.

“Thanks.” Hadrian answers at last, his voice dry as if his lungs were full of dust and ashes. Sometimes it even surprises him that he doesn’t cough after talking.

“I’m not scared though.” Tom continues, which is quite a feat for an eleven year old child to say.

“You’re very brave.” Hadrian can’t help but feel impressed. He has scared grown men to the degree that they fainted upon seeing him, but this boy is casually having a conversation with him as if he weren’t a monster made of nightmares and death.

“I wish.” Tom mutters, and the words feels horribly wrong coming out of a child’s mouth. Hadrian feel his sense of protectiveness tug at his heartstrings, but he pushes it back down as it’s not proper monster behaviour. Or at least he tries to tell himself that he does it, and that that is the reason for it. For a monster, he’s very bad at pretending - though maybe that’s a contradiction. What use does a monster have of pretending?

“There are many forms of bravery.” he says awkwardly, not sure how to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t fear him. Even his best monsters refuse to look him in the eyes; he is always impressed by their efforts. He can’t quite tell where his eyes begin or stop sometimes.

“I’m not brave in the way that matters.” Tom corrects, like an obedient child who has been berated by a teacher. Hadrian can’t help but dislike it; both the feel of surrender in Tom’s words and the image of obedience. An obedient child would not try to befriend the monster underneath their bed.

“Let me be the judge of that.” Hadrian ends up saying as he starts making his way out from underneath the bed. There’s truly no point in hiding from someone that does not mind his company, and there’s not a lot of space underneath the bed to begin with.

It does take awhile before he’s completely out; his body consists of eyes with green irises and solid yet drifting black smoke that he wears like a cloak. There are multiple sets of mouths with sharp teeth in between the eyes on what is his torso, but they do not open unless he has to suck someone’s soul. Tentacles of something not quite smoke hide underneath the cover of his cloak together with his skeleton body. What he calls skin is nothing but a thin cover of smoke, dense enough for the bones to not shine through. He does have organs somewhere within, but he does not care for how they work. It is doubtful if they have any real function anyway - monsters are made to be immortal for as long as there are children left for them, and for as long as nightmares exist. Organs are not necessary then.

His face might be the least terrifying aspect; defined cheekbones are hidden underneath the eyes and the one mouth he does use has a pair of plump blood-red lips that stand out in the darkness. He has some sort of hair as well, but it drifts just as much as his body and he never seems to be able to tame it.

Tom follows him out from underneath the bed, although it takes a while. Hadrian has time to inspect the room while he waits and it’s nothing impressive. Besides the bed, there’s also an old wardrobe and a hard wooden chair. He puts down Tom’s living conditions to either poor or orphan; the latter likely is not helped by the former. There are too many poor orphanages in England during this time.

“You are breathtaking.” Tom breaks the silence, and Hadrian can’t help but be startled by the compliment. Not because he doesn’t get them; even monsters flatter each other, but because the eleven year old child that he was supposed to scare finds him breathtaking. Something tugs at his heartstrings again, and this time he doesn’t pretend to push it down.

“I believe you’re the first to say that.” he responds, because he’s not quite sure what else to say. He does not take to compliments well most of the time; how could he when he sees the monster that frighten men to death whenever he looks in the mirror? There’s no beauty to be found in being scary - not for him. He knows that other monsters thinks that being scary is all the beauty that they need; which is saying something as some of the monsters are nothing more but inanimate things given life.

Then the door opens and their conversation is cut short.

* * *

Hadrian is seething. How dare that woman touch his child?! No one is allowed to scare Tom but him, and humans should not scare children to begin with. Yet Hadrian - the monster - finds himself being the one to give Tom comfort after Mrs Cole left.

He regrets that he retreated back to underneath the bed when the door opened, and he regrets more that he obeyed the hard glare Tom sent him and stayed there. He had started to drift out in the room to put a stop to her, but Tom had not wished for him to do so. Hadrian decides to demand why later, but right now he needs to make sure that Tom is okay.

It settles his angers some when he swears to protect Tom for as long that his child needs him, especially from vile women.

* * *

Mrs Cole comes again the next night. Hadrian does nothing, and comforts Tom afterwards.

He moves all the furniture in Mrs Cole’s office ten centimeters to the left after Tom falls asleep. It is childish and gives no real satisfaction, but it is still better than doing nothing.

* * *

The line is crossed when Mrs Cole enters Tom’s room for the third night in a row. Hadrian believes in second, even third chances, but it’s third time lucky that goes; or third time unlucky in this case.

He doesn’t have time to think before he’s out from under the bed, brutally murdering Mrs Cole as Tom watches.

* * *

There’s awe in Tom’s eyes afterwards, and respect, but no fear. Hadrian shivers, and he doesn’t know why.

* * *

Police are walking in and out of Tom’s room. Hadrian watches on from under the bed as they interrogate his child about the murder and then suddenly the police is gone and a man with ginger hair and a purple suit is introducing himself to Tom. Hadrian can’t keep himself from drifting out in the room at the word professor. It’s only at the mention of Hogwarts that he stops; the magical world is no secret for monsters.

“Are you taking me to the asylum, sir? I’m not crazy! I did not murder Mrs Cole!”

“I’m a professor at a school. I don’t believe that you killed the matron, my boy, not intentionally.”

Hadrian started to drift out once more, faster this time. _Not intentionally?_ He would not have some barmy professor blame his child for a crime that he committed!

“I haven’t applied to any school, sir.” Tom answers, thankfully focusing on the part that does not condemn him as a murderer. Hadrian drifts out nonetheless, giving Tom a comforting embrace with his smoke. He can feel the professor - Dumbledore, he believes the name was - eyeing him, but does not come out fully.

“I believe your family must have put your name down. There’s sadly no records left.” Dumbledore explains kindly. Both Tom and Hadrian mistrusts him; it’s very suspicious that a man from a school comes the day after Mrs Cole were murdered.

“What kind of school is Hogwarts?” Tom asks, obviously suspicious and impatient enough to forego the _sir_ this time. Dumbledore is still eyeing the smoke that is Hadrian.

“Hogwarts is a school for magic.” Dumbledore reveals. Hadrian can sense Tom’s excitement, but his child gives no visible sign of emotion. He feels a sense of pride at Tom’s cleverness; Dumbledore seems like the sort of man you should not be vulnerable in front of.

“Prove it.” Tom demands, and Hadrian wants to laugh. The child believes in monsters but not magic; it’s depressing beyond words. Then Dumbledore puts Tom’s wardrobe on fire and Hadrian is out completely from under the bed before the situation fully registers in his mind.

“A monster that shows himself?” Dumbledore mumbles, fascinated. The fire flickers out in the background; the wardrobe turns out to be undamaged. Hadrian can’t help but feel foolish until he feels Tom take his hand and entwine their fingers. He hugs Tom’s hand to give comfort.

“I do a lot more than just show myself.” Hadrian answers.

“Mrs Cole.” Dumbledore says, a hint of dawning realisation in his voice as he nods understandingly. Hadrian can’t help but feel slightly disgusted by the man.

“Give Tom his letter and leave.” he demands, eager to get the meeting over with. He still finds it suspicious that Dumbledore came the day after the murder.

“Hogwarts has wards against monsters.” Dumbledore warns, and Hadrian laughs. It starts with only coming from his blood-red lips but then the sharp-toothed mouths on his torso open to give eerie laughters of their own. It’s chilling and lesser men would have run away; he did not even know that his other mouths could laugh. Tom hugs his hand harder, but Dumbledore only waits him out with a patient smile. Hadrian wants to kill the man, a foreign emotion as Dumbledore has yet to prove himself as a threat to Tom.

“Your wards do nothing but _tickle_.” Hadrian finally answers as the laughter slowly dies out in differing rhythms. The mouth over the small of his back is the last one to stop. Dumbledore frowns at his revelation but says nothing more about it.

“I will not leave Tom’s side.” Hadrian promises, when the silence grows too awkward for him.

“Hadrian protects me.” Tom chimes in. Dumbledore looks startled, but still says nothing.

“The letter?” Hadrian prompts. The meeting has dragged out, and he doubt the police is actually done investigating the murder scene.

“I’ll see you at Hogwarts, Tom, Hadrian.” Dumbledore says at last. He hands Tom a letter and a bag with coins.

Hadrian glares after Dumbledore until there’s no ginger hair or purple suit left to see.

* * *

 Diagon Alley is not very interesting in Hadrian’s opinion. He’s forced to hide in Tom’s shadow to not create a panic, and there’s only so much observation that he can whisper in Tom’s ear.

Then they enter the wand shop and Hadrian finds himself face to face with someone he had never thought he’d see again.

“Garrick.” he greets, gracefully leaving Tom’s shadow to take full shape.

“Hadrian, Mr Riddle.” Garrick greets, unblinking as always. The wandmaker had been just as strange as a child; Hadrian has met him only once, and in passing at that, but it was not an encounter that one could forget.

“How do you know my name, sir?” Tom asks before Hadrian could say anything more. Garrick only smiles and spells a roll of measure tape and a quill to take down Tom’s measurements.

“Let's get the two of you a wand.” Garrick exclaims at last, and Hadrian belatedly realise that he has been measured as well. He does not point out that it’s useless to measure a shapeshifter, but a laughter is bubbling in his throat and his lips twitches.

“Monsters don’t have the same magic; are you sure I can make use of one of your wands?” Hadrian asks as he takes the offered wand. Tom is on his third beside him; Garrick was quicker to sort through the wands for his child. It’s not surprising.

“Give it a wave.” is all Garrick answers, and Hadrian obeys. Something explodes, but it’s not far from the reaction that Tom gets from the ill-fitting wands, so it’s not a sure sign of anything.

* * *

Countless of wands later Garrick’s smile threatens to split his face in half. Hadrian is amused, and more so at Tom’s impatience. Then suddenly two wands are thrusted into their faces; one of holly and one of yew. Hadrian and Tom reaches for them at the same time, and the resulting light in the shop is blinding. Hadrian fears that he’ll flicker out of existence for only a moment, then the light dies down.

“11” holly and 13½” yew, phoenix feather cores. Only two feathers that I got from that particular phoenix. I believe the two of you will do marvellous things together, and great things on your own. That’ll be 13 galleons.”

“That’s an odd price.” Hadrian remarks as Tom pays. Garrick only smiles

* * *

The Hogwarts Express looks rather impressive, Hadrian has to admit. He can do without the humans staring at him though. He has Tom’s hand in his, and holds Tom’s trunk with the other. He refuses to hide at Hogwarts as he did in Diagon Alley, and the platform seems as a good place to start but he feels anxious at the stares. He knows that his presence will give Tom unwanted attention, but he also knows that Tom feels safer with him there.

“We should board the train.” Hadrian says at last, and leads the way through the crowd. No one dares to get in his way, and he sees quite a few children look towards Tom with respect. Tom notices as well, and the smile on his lips is cold.

* * *

Hogwarts castle makes for an even more impressive sight than the train did. Hadrian feels an overwhelming sense of fondness deep inside his heart; he remembers a time when Hogwarts was only a dream that four young humans had. He wonders if there’s any portrait of his old child hidden somewhere inside the castle; he hopes that there is.

The downside of immortality is that the humans that you grow fond of has to leave. Hadrian pushes the thought away with stubborn abandon; Tom is still a child and they still have time.

Hadrian loses track of their surroundings as he focuses on Tom’s reactions to the beauty that is Hogwarts. Before he knows it they’re in the Great Hall and Dumbledore is calling names. He looks up and meets Dumbledore’s gaze, a coldly polite smile on his lips.

* * *

“Riddle, Tom!” Dumbledore calls at last.

Tom leads Hadrian towards the chair with the sorting hat by the hand, and Hadrian listens to the students’ whispers. All of them recognise a monster when they see one, but monsters are not covered in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Neither the students nor the teachers knows quite what to do, and Hadrian takes pleasure in the bewilderment on the headmaster’s face.

“Slytherin!” the sorting hat announces only seconds after it is placed on Tom’s head. Tom doesn’t allow Dumbledore to take the hat off, but offers it to Hadrian instead. Hadrian obediently bends down so Tom can place the ancient hat on his head.

_“And what do we have here? A monster graces the corridors of Hogwarts.”_

_“I do what I have to, hat.”_

_“Monster or not, you need to be sorted if you intend to walk the castle.”_

_“Oh? I do not wish to be separated from my child.”_

_“The house of your heart does not force you to give up your responsibility as a protector.”_

_“Then by all means, hat, sort me.”_

Hadrian has a small smile of amusement on his lips as he waits for the hat to call a house out. He knows it’s unlikely that he will follow Tom into Slytherin; he has no ambitiousness to speak of. His position comes from hard work and peculiarity more than anything else.

“Hufflepuff!” echoes through the Great Hall at last, and Hadrian laughs as he hands the hat to Dumbledore. No one knows how to react after a monster gets sorted into the forgotten house. Tom applauds, and it echoes almost eerily. Hadrian laughs louder and leads Tom to the Slytherin table.

It takes quite a while before the sorting continues.

* * *

The next day is a Friday, and the first day of lessons. Hadrian slept under Tom’s bed the night before, and he sits next to Tom at breakfast. Both the Hufflepuff and Slytherin heads of house keeps sending him glances which he ignores; he has no plans on leaving Tom to have lessons with Hufflepuffs. He has no real plan on participating in lessons at all, but Garrick’s wand burns inside him - for a monster has no pockets but their skin - and the magic in the air fills him with anticipation.

When Hadrian gets a schedule at last, he’s amused to find that Hufflepuff has all their lessons together with Slytherin.

* * *

Hadrian finds his way into the Chamber of Secrets that first weekend. He has left Tom asleep as he explores the castle; there’s a lot of places where he can sense life that are hard to reach. If not for his ability to sense life forces, he would not have found something as the Chamber any time soon.

He considers if he should kill the basilisk if he plans to show the Chamber to Tom, but decides against it. Instead he draws the connection to Salazar Slytherin, and explores in hope to find a portrait of his long lost child.

As it happens, there’s a hidden study filled with books that had a dusty portrait hanging behind the desk. Hadrian smiles at the sleeping man pictured; it has been long since they last saw each other.

* * *

Time is a concept used more by humans than by monsters, and therefore Hadrian is unprepared for the realisation that Tom is already on his way to turn sixteen. It’s their fifth year at Hogwarts, and a lot has happened in those years.

Hadrian has taken to magic with a wand as a fish takes to water, and Tom has taken to magic overall as easy as breathing. The professors doesn’t know quite what to do; Hadrian makes himself deserving of house points without trying and he is by all means a Hufflepuff, yet their uncertainty makes Slytherin win the house cup each year. Only Dumbledore seems to realise the competition in gaining points that Hogwarts has sprouted between him and Tom, but Dumbledore never gives Tom the acknowledgement that Tom deserves.

Then there’s the Chamber, which Hadrian proudly presented to Tom a week into their first year. It did not take long for them to discover that Tom is a descendant of Salazar, and it took even less for Salazar to tease Hadrian about it. Hadrian does not know what there is to tease him about; Tom is his child now as Salazar once was, and the feelings that Hadrian harbors for Tom are nothing as the ones that he had for Salazar.

Salazar was afraid of the monster under his bed, Tom is not. Tom has invited the monster into his bed instead.

They're not lovers, as they are monster and child, but they’re something that is hard to explain.

* * *

It’s the first Defense lesson of their fifth year, and professor Merrythought has invited a boggart into the classroom. Hadrian is curious to see if a boggart has any way to scare a monster, but he also worries about Tom. He does not know what Tom is scared of any longer, but he hopes that it will not be Mrs Cole.

Then it’s Tom’s turn, and Hadrian hasn’t needed to worry. The boggart turns into a bed, and although no other might find it particularly scary, Hadrian knows that Tom fears nothing more than losing the monster from underneath his bed. He feels oddly touched by it, and something else that he can’t put words to.

* * *

“Why is the basilisk loose, Tom?” Hadrian asks one night as his limbs and tentacles are entwined with Tom’s arms and legs. The bed is overflowing with drifting smoke, but Hadrian feels too comfortable to do anything about it and their roommates has had years to get used to it.

“She woke up and complained about being stuck. I would feel horrible to force her to wake up to captivity.” Tom mumbles into a skin covered spot on Hadrian’s chest. Most of his lower eyes are closed, but there’s one open that gives him a spectacular view of Tom’s face up close if he chooses to focus out of it. He does.

“She has petrified students.” Hadrian counters. “We might not get as lucky the next time.”

“I’ll tell her to stop.” Tom promises, as his hands starts to explore Hadrian’s body. There’s not the same innocence in the gesture as there usually is; Tom has since their first meeting been fascinated by the way Hadrian’s body works. This time there’s less exploring of any new areas, and more exploring like someone making a map. Hadrian doesn’t know how to react, and his smokes drifts back towards his body as if to make him smaller.

“Tom?” he questions, uncertain. He has never been uncertain as often as he is with Tom.

“You’re breathtaking.” Tom answers, and that is that. Hadrian forgets what they were talking about as Tom’s lips makes their own travels upon his skin.

* * *

A girl is murdered. A girl is murdered and Tom does not show any regret. Hadrian can do nothing but look on as Tom frames a third year Gryffindor for something that the basilisk did, for something that Tom is responsible for.

Hadrian personally puts the basilisk back to sleep. He wants to refuse to talk to Tom, but then Tom distracts him with lips and fingers, and all Hadrian can do is question how anyone can want a monster.

* * *

It takes a while before Hadrian realise that he can sense Tom in two places, as more often than not Tom keeps the diary on his person. The day that he does realise, the unlucky witnesses gets to see him in full monster get-up; something Mrs Cole was the last to see up close as Tom is now.

Of course, Tom is not affected by it, which only makes Hadrian more furious.

“What did you do?” he demands, tentacles keeping Tom pushed up against the wall next to their shared bed.

“Nothing that I didn’t need to do.” Tom defends himself yet avoids answering the question. Hadrian glares, which looks quite impressive when all eyes capable of it are focused on Tom.

“Splitting your soul was something you needed to do?!”

“I don’t want to die!” Tom whispers furiously, and he keeps looking over Hadrian’s shoulder to see if any of their roommates are still in their dorm. Hadrian in contrast does not care.

“Humans are not made for immortality!”

“But I want to be with you!” Tom confesses, in a desperate attempt to make him calm down. It’s the most raw that Tom has been since Mrs Cole, and Hadrian visibly collapses into himself as he withdraws. He refuses to look at Tom, and closes all eyes with eyelids to make the point come across.

“Horcruxes are not the way to go.” he answers stiffly. “And you’re already with me.”

It’s the first and only time that Hadrian spend the night with Hufflepuff.

* * *

Tom gives Hadrian the diary the next day. Hadrian considers to destroy it before he puts it inside himself, closer to his heart than even his wand is.

* * *

Their relationship is not rocky for long. Hadrian has few morals as a monster, and he knows nothing but Tom in the human world. Going back to his office job seems impossible, and he sometimes finds himself thinking about resigning. He has no plans on going through with that thought, because Horcrux or not Tom will not always be there, but it’s in a way a nice thought to have.

* * *

Hadrian keeps to the background as Tom is responsible for more murders and makes more Horcruxes. He does not even give a token protest when Tom’s next horcrux is him. A living horcrux is unheard of, a monster horcrux even more so. He rather Tom lets him protect it than storing it in some item though.

Perhaps he’s blinded by human emotions, because Hadrian likens it to Tom giving him his heart. Tom’s soul piece settles into his bones like a second skin.

* * *

They graduate Hogwarts, and Tom finds a job in Knockturn Alley. Hadrian keeps more and more to the background, only really there when Tom goes to sleep. It’s easier to pretend that his child is still innocent then, although few of the things they do in bed are truly innocent.

Loving a monster is much stranger than wanting one.

* * *

It’s been long since his Tom was still Tom. The man next to him in bed still looks like his Tom, but Hadrian can sense his soul in too many places and he knows that the man prefers the name Voldemort. He does nothing but smile fondly at the sleeping face.

He feels more scared by Voldemort than Tom ever did of him. He doesn’t mind.

* * *

Time passes, as time tends to do. Hadrian spends his time visiting Salazar, visiting Garrick, visiting Dumbledore. He talks about Hogwarts and magic with Salazar, create wands with Garrick, and unnerves Dumbledore.

When he misses Tom too much, he writes in the diary. Hadrian writes about Voldemort, and about his doubts. He considers leaving the human realm for his own, but then he looks at the sleeping Tom, the one that he is unable to refer to Voldemort, and his heart melts.

He has always been weak for a monster. Besides, he can’t carry Tom’s soul with him to a realm intertwined with Death. It would be unfair to Tom.

* * *

There’s been a prophecy about someone with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.

“You can’t possibly go after a child!” Hadrian protests. He is horrified by the very thought; killing a mere babe is nothing like being the monster under their bed.

“It’s a child with the power to vanquish me!” Voldemort counters.

“That’s why you made Horcruxes, Tom!”

“You know how I feel about that name, Hadrian.”

“Voldemort, then. Do you not trust me to be the safekeeper of your soul? To resurrect you if anything were to happen?!”

“I trust you, but I will not take unnecessary risks by letting the child live.”

“At least let me come with; I will not have you vanquished.”

Voldemort laughs at the absurd statement, but doesn’t refuse his wish.

* * *

“He looks like you. He has your eyes and impossible hair.” Voldemort says as they stand together in front of Harry Potter’s cot. The mother lies dead by their feet. There’s no monster assigned to Harry Potter, interestingly enough.

“Every monster has a child.” Hadrian answers. It’s quite strange to be met by his human equivalent; stranger still to think that his humanity would lead him to vanquish Tom.

“You know that I will still kill him?” Voldemort asks, and Hadrian is surprised by the awkwardness of the question.

“We could raise him.” he suggests, although he knows that Voldemort has no patience for children. Tom did, once. Tom wanted to become a teacher. Voldemort is sadly not the same; soul splitting does that to a person.

“Avada Kedavra.” is Voldemort’s response.

* * *

Hadrian looks with sorrow at the spot where his lover stood only moments ago, and then towards the quiet child in the cot. He takes Voldemort’s wand from the floor and leaves.

He has no need for his own wand when he has his lover’s. It’s with heavy steps that he enters Garrick’s shop to return the holly wand.

Garrick says nothing, but returns the 13 galleons that Tom once paid with. Hadrian pockets them absently. He doesn’t quite know what to do now, but he supposes that he should look into resurrecting his lover.

It’s funny, he doesn’t quite know if he or Tom is the real monster anymore. Maybe he never did.

* * *

Something tugs at his heartstrings, and Hadrian decides to follow it to where Harry Potter is. He looks on with disgust as Dumbledore places the child on the doorstep to a Muggle house. He has never been one to differ between magicals and Muggles, but he knows from Tom’s childhood that magicals should be raised by their own.

He sneaks into the house to look around. He is lucky that the family has a small child, and that children get assigned monsters. The monster that he finds in the closet can tell him a lot about what a horrible family Harry is supposed to live with.

Hadrian is disgusted by the humans by the time the monster is done. He returns outside and lifts Harry up from the doorstep. Dumbledore is not there to stop him.

“You know, Harry, I think Tom needs to be taught a lesson. Besides, you’re far too young to resurrect Dark Lords.” Hadrian muses as he starts walking down the street, Harry cradled against his chest.

He has a child to raise, a barmy old man to get rid off, and a lover to find and resurrect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me if I missed any mistakes!
> 
> I hope to have the next chapter done by next week.
> 
> Please comment x and watch out for monsters x


	2. II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monsters shouldn't raise children, but neither should Death, and yet Harry turns out great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Father's day, haha. It's almost Monday in Sweden though, so I'm really pushing it.

Unassigned children should not exist, Hadrian ponders as he walks through Little Whinging; Harry still cradled in his arms. There’s no humans awake to see him, which gives him the opportunity to walk in the middle of the road. Besides, even if he was seen… what can humans really do? He has magic, although he does not know if he can use Tom’s wand. He should be able to. A part of him wants to; longs to; demands him to.

It’s not the main of his concerns right now. The wand nevertheless burns temptingly.

There’s still the question of why Harry does not have a monster of his own; Hadrian still belongs to Tom. Then there’s the more pressing question of where they should go.

Tom’s followers are not Hadrian’s friends, and he can’t impose on Garrick. It really only leaves one place.

“I hope that you’re not afraid of monsters, Harry.”

Not that it matters. Hadrian does what he has to, especially if it will do Tom good, and he truly thinks that Harry will do the new Tom, the one that calls himself Voldemort, a lot of good.

* * *

“I did not expect to see you back here anytime soon.” a voice he knows all too well greets them when Hadrian enters his home. Harry is thankfully still asleep; has been since Hadrian first stole the child.

“Circumstances changed.” Hadrian deflects the true question. He rarely gets visitors, and he cares more for Harry’s well being than he cares about if he’s being rude.

“Sit down and tell your uncle?” Death suggests and Hadrian smiles thinly. It’s nice with something familiar, something with a pattern that he can foresee, even if it’s Death.

“Why are you here?” he counters instead of answering as he starts moving furniture around with his tentacles. He has to transfigure some of it for Harry’s care… Tom’s wand hums inside him, in anticipation or in mourning. Perhaps both. He wonders if it misses it’s brother or if it misses Tom. He still doesn’t use it, as tempting as it is.

“I was curious as to what my dear nephew has been up to, and it’s not everyday you meet your destined master.” Death answers unheedfully and conjures them both some tea. Hadrian looks at the offered mug but makes no move to take it. He feels as if he should be surprised that Harry is the destined Master of Death, but it’s almost as if he expected it.

“Harry does not need you. Nor does I.”

“You can’t tell Death what to do. Drink your tea.”

Hadrian takes the mug this time. Much as he hates to admit it, Death would be great help in locating Tom.

* * *

“No.”

“No?” Hadrian repeats, the word overwhelmingly salty in his mouth. He abhors salt. It reminds him too much of Tom’s tears.

“Your lover only has himself to blame. I will not assist any resurrections. In my opinion, he’s better off if he turns completely dead.”

“But I need Tom.” Hadrian whispers. It sounds broken and desperate even to him. Once, he would have been nauseous by the mere thought of needing someone else.

Harry wakes up and starts crying.

* * *

Children that grow up in the realm of monsters turn peculiar by circumstance. Hadrian is sure that Harry would have been just as peculiar in any other environment; Harry is more than just Harry.

Longing and loss has made lesser men delusional, but Hadrian is no man and he knows that he’s not imagining the tugging at his heartstrings that reminds him sickeningly of Tom. It only happens when Harry is let out of sight, and it’s stronger than the connection that he has to Tom’s Horcruxes; perhaps with the exception of the one he carries as a skin.

Harry is a horcrux, he must be, because Tom can’t have been reborn as the one-year old that vanquished Voldemort.

Two living keepers of Tom’s soul, _and they’re both him_ , and they’re both closely connected to Death.

Hadrian laughs, and it sounds like something broken.

* * *

It’s funny to Hadrian how he takes care of a child when he doesn’t take care of himself. Immortality comes with vices, as does mourning, and he takes to it as obsession and self harm. Not that there’s any real harm that a monster can inflict on themselves.

He doesn’t sleep, but he has never needed to. He can’t sleep without Tom anyway. He tries to sleep with Harry, but a small soul shard in a scar is not the same.

Besides, the soul in Harry does not belong to Tom. It belongs to Voldemort.

Hadrian takes to writing in the diary even more. It’s the closest he can get to Tom, exempting the soul entrusted to his very being. He craves closeness, he craves his lover, he craves humanity, and so Hadrian writes, and cares for Harry, and does little else.

If monsters could collapse, he’s sure he should be long dead. No sleep, no food, no anything but desperate attempts to bring back the locus that he has built his life around, and caring for the downfall.

Tom should have listened. _Tom would have listened._

Hadrian swears to never forgive Voldemort for taking Tom away. The diary agrees.

* * *

_Have you collected my other Horcruxes?_

The words on the diary page mocks him. Hadrian looks at them with dread and anxiety and guilt filling up his very being. He has been so focused on the diary, Harry and himself that he forgot that there remains four Horcruxes in the human world.

_Hadrian?_

He ignores the new word on the page, and he ignores Harry’s cries in the background, and he turns into himself. He doesn’t have the needed energy to do anything else.

* * *

“Did you find anything while turned inside out?” Death questions when Hadrian comes back to awareness of the world. Harry is sleeping in Death’s arms. Hadrian feels stabs of guilt through his body; his actions were selfish and Harry suffered. He can’t bring himself to regret it.

“How long was I gone?” Hadrian counters, and takes Harry. The weight of Tom’s soul inside the child makes him hum in content, although he labels it as Voldemort’s the rest of the time.

“Master just turned four.”

The stabs of guilt quadruple in power. Hadrian remains standing only because he knows he deserves the imaginary pain; he left his child alone for three years. Then again, Tom was his child before Harry and Tom means more.

_But Tom isn’t really here, is he?_

* * *

The hunt for Horcruxes starts the next day. It’s easy; he was next to Tom when each of them got hidden, and he can sense them in his heart. Finding them does not take long.

Hadrian gets the ring first, and he puts it onto his finger. It feels as if he is filled with warmth, although he didn’t know that he was cold to begin with.

He goes after the diadem next; Hogwarts calls to him. He considers visiting Salazar, but he does not trust Death to care for Harry much longer than the years that has already passed, and time management is a vice of it’s own. It is hard enough to get into the castle without running into Dumbledore, but he succeeds. He does not wear the diadem.

After some consideration, he decides to go after the cup next. He curses Voldemort for entrusting it to a follower; it makes the trust Tom put in him feel less special. Hadrian curses Voldemort for a lot of things, and this especially, because Tom’s trust is all he has left. He still gets the cup out of Gringotts without problems; the perks of being a monster.

He has left the locket for last as he otherwise would have been tempted to leave the two Horcruxes with Voldemort’s soul behind. The locket is the last horcrux that is truly Tom.

The locket calls to him not from the cave where they left it, but from a building in London. Hadrian does not give any attention to the details of circumstance; he takes the locket at first opportunity and then returns home.

He feels more complete with Tom’s Horcruxes close to his heart.

* * *

Neither Death nor Harry is there. Hadrian can not bring himself to care; he is obsessing over the pieces of Tom’s soul that he holds in his hands.

  
By the time that he starts to worry, Death has already returned with the child. Hadrian drowns in the guilt and forces a smile.

* * *

“Is it wise to suck the soul pieces out of their containers?” Death asks. Hadrian ignores him. He is not eating the souls; he is fusing them together to resemble something more whole, and he is only doing it to Tom’s soul.

He has given Voldemort’s soul to Harry. The four year old looks quite fetching in Ravenclaw’s diadem.

“Perhaps I can move it from the goblet to the locket; otherwise Harry might lose it.” Hadrian answers. There’s no question to answer; Death left the room while Hadrian fused the soul pieces together. He does not mind and answers anyway.

Harry is gifted with a locket and a diadem. It’s only fitting that Hadrian is the keeper of Tom’s soul and Harry is the keeper of Voldemort’s.

* * *

“Do you have a last name?” Harry asks with all the curious innocence that belongs to a six year old child. It reminds Hadrian of the innocence Tom once had, but there’s more innocence in the entirety of Harry’s question than there ever was in Tom.

“Riddle.” Hadrian answers absently. “Hadrian Riddle.”

It sounds nice in his ears, like a sweet promise. He’s sure Tom will agree when Hadrian tells him.

Wasn’t it Tom that wanted them to be together after all? Hadrian is more than happy to fulfill his lover’s wishes.

* * *

Hadrian looks at Harry and he sees Tom. He looks in the mirror and he sees Tom behind him. He looks at Death and sees nothing.

He covers the mirrors in the house, locks himself inside his room and turns inside himself. Death knows to care for Harry in his place.

Since he merged Tom’s soul pieces with the one he keeps in his heart, the diary is no longer of any use to him. He can’t bring himself to transfer Tom’s soul back into it when it’s so much more intimate as it is.

“Back again?” Tom asks from where he resides within Hadrian’s heart. Hadrian smiles and collects Tom in his arms to kiss and adore and worship. His heart is the one place where Tom can take physical shape.

He has tried to feed Tom his life force, but Horcruxes needs human energy. It should make him feel guilty that he offered Harry’s, but years without Tom by his side has left him desperate. Besides, Tom refused to take the life force of Voldemort’s downfall. No harm done.

Hadrian knows nothing but Tom when left alone; he knows only of Harry when in company.

“I never left.” he answers, and the truth tastes bittersweet on his tongue.

* * *

Time passes as time tends to do, and Hadrian is faced with a nine year old the next time that he returns. Harry looks like royalty with the diadem nestled in his unruly hair and with the locket around his dainty neck.

“I missed you, brother.” Harry tells him. Hadrian smiles humorlessly and drags his fingers through Harry’s hair.

“Brother?” he asks. He does not remember referring to himself as Harry’s brother.

“Uncle insists. Is it not true?”

“It is not false.” Hadrian decides and leaves it at that. The smile that Harry gives him is blinding.

* * *

“Tell me about Hogwarts.” Harry asks one day.

“Who told you about Hogwarts?” Hadrian questions, although he suspects that Death did.

“Uncle.” Harry confirms. Hadrian settles deeper into the armchair from which he is overflowing. He wonders if Harry has ever questioned that he is a monster. He doesn’t know what Death has told Harry in his absences.

“It’s a beautiful castle in Scotland, and it was built by four magicals with the intention of being a school. These four magicals named houses after themselves; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff. They are the founders of Hogwarts. You have Ravenclaw’s diadem in your hair and Slytherin’s locket around your neck. We keep Hufflepuff’s cup in the cupboard; I do not know what became of Gryffindor’s sword.”

“Do you know much about the founders?” Harry asks excitedly. Hadrian can’t help but smile.

“I knew Salazar Slytherin personally, before the school became a reality.”

“What was he like?”

“Ambitious, cunning… Resourceful. Very clever and great sense of fraternity too. Salazar was not a good man, Harry. He had too much self-preservation and thought of Muggles as lesser because it felt safer than making them potential threats. Ironically, because I at least think that’s what irony is, ambition, cunning, resourcefulness, cleverness, fraternity and self-preservation are all traits of the Slytherin house.”

“And the other houses?”

“There’s Gryffindor. I believe your parents were both Gryffindors, but I wouldn’t know; I did not know them. Gryffindor is the house of bravery and chivalry… My Tom was in Slytherin. I can tell you much more about that house than any of the others. Ravenclaw is wise and Hufflepuff is loyal, that’s all I know.”

“What house were you in?”

Hadrian’s lips twitches.  
“Hufflepuff.”

* * *

Hadrian has never seen Harry in a panic before. He watches as his child frantically searches the house, looking for something. He wasn’t aware Harry had any belongings to look for; he has not indulged his child with any gifts, only necessities. Monsters are not meant to care for children and Hadrian prefers to have distance between them. Tom was - _Tom is_ \- an exception, and Tom has long since grown out of being a child although he always will be one in Hadrian’s mind.

“Can I help?” Hadrian asks at last, when he tires of seeing the nine year old run around. Harry turns to him with tearful eyes.

“I can’t find my diadem!”

Hadrian looks carefully over Harry with all of his available eyes. After only a moment, all of them latch onto the diadem in Harry’s hair. He feels amusement tugging at his lips, and meet Harry’s eyes. They’re the same shade of green as Hadrian’s own, yet brighter with humanity.

“Why are you looking for it?” Hadrian inquires as one of his tentacles helpfully steals said diadem from Harry’s messy mane.

“It makes me feel safer when I have both the locket and diadem.” Harry admits, and looks embarrassed towards the pristine floor. Hadrian feels all sense of amusement evaporate as he is horribly reminded of his own dependency on Tom’s soul.

He offers the diadem to Harry without a word.

* * *

A whole year passes without Hadrian talking to Harry, yet without Hadrian seeking Tom’s companionship. Instead he tries to return to his office job, and buries himself in assigning monsters to children. The act is almost repulsive, because he now knows that the real monsters are not the one he sends out but the adults that are supposed to care for the children.

He does not search for Harry’s file. He doesn’t want to know what it says.

Death visits sometimes, but those visits turns into a ritual of Hadrian being forced to drink tea and Death trying to get him to return by saying that Harry misses him.

Hadrian stays at the office until it’s not Death that shows up, but Harry.

“I want you to read me a bedtime story.” Harry says and grabs Hadrian’s hand. Hadrian smiles, and it’s bittersweet, and he returns home with his not-quite-but-for-the-time-being child.

* * *

Time and Hadrian are not friends. As months and weeks means nothing to a monster, Harry’s eleventh birthday seem to come out of nowhere. Had they not been in the realm of monsters, they could have expected Harry’s Hogwarts letter to show up in the weeks leading up to his birthday, but as it is they can’t be reached by owls.

Hadrian feels a great sense of amusement at the thought of Dumbledore looking all over the United Kingdom for the missing child-hero.

“We have to accept your place at Hogwarts.” Hadrian tells Harry, his tone the most serious that it has ever been. “And buy your school supplies. Which mean that we need to leave for the human realm. You are as famous there as I’m infamous, both thanks to Voldemort. We will not be able to avoid attention. I want you to stay close to me at all times, and I want you to behave in whatever way you finds most fitting for a child. I do not want you to become a hero for vanquishing Voldemort when you’re meant to stand by his side, so don’t let them turn you into something that you are not.”

“I understand, brother.” Harry says, his lips pressed together with determination.

“Good.” Hadrian answers with a friendly smile. He picks Harry up in his arms.

Next stop, the human realm.

* * *

Diagon Alley is bustling with life when they arrive. Hadrian quickly changes his shape as he doesn’t know how many actually remembers him, and he doesn’t want to drag unnecessary attention to Harry. When he went to Diagon Alley with Tom the first time, he hid, but he has no plan on hiding this time. Although he told Harry earlier that he’s infamous, Hadrian did not spend that much time in the limelight together with Voldemort. The Death Eaters should know who he is though, and it’s likely that one or two has mentioned him during trial.

He doesn’t bother to change his shape too much; he grows a nose to look more pleasant in profile, makes sure to have extra eyes on his neck and shoulder blades; like freckles. He also grows slightly taller to see above the crowd; he usually prefer to not be taller than Tom. He does not change his waist size, which grows smaller as he grows taller, nor does he care enough to separate his legs. His shadows are a dark robe, and he’s not changing that.

“I can walk.” Harry reminds him. Hadrian smiles apologetically and bends down to put Harry on the ground. Harry is quick to grab his hand, and together they leave the shadows of Diagon Alley to join the crowd.

Hadrian absently throw a notice-me-not charm on the diadem and locket, as the founder items certainly would give them unwanted attention.

“Let's go to the post office.” Hadrian decides. “We should send your letter before anything else.”

He doubts that the list of school supplies have changed much since Tom was a student, so he assumes that they’ll be fine without the list on hand. Who knows, maybe an owl with Harry’s Hogwarts letter will find them as they’re shopping.

* * *

Their first stop after the post office is Ollivanders, as Hadrian wants to visit Garrick before anything else. The wand shop is empty when they enter, but he knows that Garrick most likely have been expecting them and is going to show up with a wand in hand soon.

As he predicted, Garrick shows up out of nowhere only minutes later. Hadrian recognises the wand in his hand and frowns at the sight of it.

“Hadrian, Mr Potter.” Garrick greets them, a mirror of how Hadrian and Tom had been greeted.

Hadrian lets go of Harry’s hand, and gently pushes the boy forward. There’s no measurement taken this time; Garrick offers the wand and Harry takes it. The shop lights up, but it’s far from as blinding as last time.

“Interesting.” Garrick says with a smile. “You two must be a lot alike. That’s Hadrian’s old wand, Mr Potter. Do be careful with it, I don’t want to have it back in my shop again.”

“It’s also the brother wand to Voldemort.” Hadrian shoots in, before Harry can question why he returned the wand. The information brings an excited smile to Harry’s face. Garrick gives him a look, but Hadrian ignores it.

“How much?” he asks instead.

“It was yours to begin with, no payment needed.” Garrick answers. “Just come back and visit some time.”

Hadrian considers the old wandmaker for a long moment before he nods. He takes Harry’s hand without a word and leaves the wand shop.

* * *

They go to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions next. Hadrian keeps to a shadowed corner as Harry gets fitted for his robes. There’s a girl on the stool next to Harry, with dark skin and a blonde afro.

“Hi, I’m Lavender!” the girl introduces herself and smiles over at Harry. Hadrian chuckles as he notices how she flutters her eyelashes.

“Hello Lavender, I’m Harry.” Harry answers, and winks at her. Hadrian decides to blame Death for Harry’s behaviour. At least it got Lavender to giggle.

“Are you also going to Hogwarts?” Lavender asks.

“Oh yes. What house do you hope to be in?” Harry easily continues the conversation.

“Gryffindor sounds nice. What about you?”

Harry smiles at her as if he’s sharing a big secret; he even leans closer to whisper in her ear. Hadrian can’t hear what he says, but he assumes that Harry wants to get into Gryffindor. Lavender laughs at Harry and Harry just smiles.

Hadrian zone out during the rest of their conversation, preferring to think about what more they need to do. Perhaps they should go to Gringotts… the galleons that he have are galleons that he has saved up, or taken from Tom’s vault. It would probably be good to make sure that Harry has his own vault key, maybe see if the Potters left any wills. Things that he in hindsight should have checked years ago, when he first took Harry from the doorstep.

* * *

“I made a friend.” Harry excitedly tells him when they have left Madam Malkin’s for Gringotts.

“That’s good.” Hadrian answers, not sure what else to say. He’s only happy that Death taught Harry some questionable manners.

“So where are we going?” Harry wonders, as he keeps turning his head around to look in all directions.

“Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It’s run by goblins.” Hadrian explained. “Make sure to be polite to them. You don’t want to upset the ones in care of your money.”

“Are we going to your vault?”

“Perhaps, but I thought we should check upon yours. I’m assuming that you have one, the Potters are an old family.”

“And if I don’t?” Harry asks, biting his lip slightly.

“Then I’m sure Tom won’t mind to sponsor your education. I share a vault with him.”

Harry nods, and they enter Gringotts.

* * *

It turns out that Harry does have a vault. Hadrian negotiates with the goblins to get a new key created, and then they get a goblin named Griphook to show them the vault. Harry wastes no time giving Hadrian a sack of galleons to pay back for his care up until now. Hadrian considers to refuse, but he can just as well use the galleons to buy the rest of Harry’s school supplies so he accepts.

It also turns out that James and Lily Potter left wills behind, and that Harry has a godfather. Hadrian decides to figure out what that situation is on a later date.

* * *

After Gringotts they buy some sensible things, as quills and ink, a cauldron, phials, a telescope, a pair of scales… Hadrian considers buying a broomstick, but then he overhears some child complaining about how first-years are not allowed their own brooms and decides against it. He doesn’t know if Harry is interested in Quidditch anyway. He only knows that Tom wasn't. 

“Do you want to go buy a pet or the books first?” he asks instead. They’ve been lucky this far, as no one has dared get close enough to them to see Harry’s scar. Being a monster has its perks.

“Buy a pet.” Harry answers, and so they go to the Magical Menagerie.

* * *

When they enter Flourish and Blotts at last, there’s a Runespoor around Harry’s shoulders. It had only taken a glare from Hadrian and for Harry to speak parseltongue for the shopkeep to agree to sell it, even if it has a XXXX classification. It can have helped that Hadrian made sure that Harry’s scar was visible with a wisp of smoke.

Of course, they gain more attention with the snake than they did earlier, but the bookstore is their last stop for the day. Hadrian leads Harry through the crowd over to the salesman to ask about which books the first-years need, when Harry’s hand slips out of his. When Hadrian turns, he sees Harry help a girl with her books.

“You dropped one.” Harry says, and puts the book back on the tower that the girl is carrying. The girl is eyeing his Runespoor with both fear and respect.

“Thank you. I’m Pansy Parkinson, and you are?” The girl - Pansy - looks criticizing at Harry’s clothes. It’s one of the outfits that Death got for Harry, and Hadrian has no idea if it’s nice material or even wizarding fashion, but Pansy seems to approve.

“Harry, and you’re welcome. Do you need any more help?”

Pansy scrunches her nose at the lack of a last name.  
“No.”

“See you at Hogwarts!” Harry says with a beaming smile before he runs back to Hadrian, the Runespoor hissing disapprovingly from around his shoulders. Well, not the dreamer head, but the other two.

“Did you make another friend?” Hadrian asks and takes Harry’s hand anew. Harry nods.

They buy the books after that, before the Runespoor scare all the customers away.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express is still as impressive as all the other times that Hadrian has seen it. There’s humans staring, of course there is, but this time their eyes wander between him and the Runespoor around Harry’s shoulders. Hadrian has Harry’s hand in his, but Harry is holding his own trunk. It’s not like when Hadrian and Tom stepped onto platform 9¾ for the first time. Harry doesn’t enjoy the attention as Tom did, and the smile on Harry’s face is full of awe for the train.

 _Yes_ , Hadrian thinks. _Harry will be good for Voldemort._

* * *

Hadrian and Harry are conversing with the Runespoor when the door to their compartment opens. Hadrian looks up to see a boy that undoubtedly must be a Malfoy. He doesn’t quite remember the boy’s name but he hopes the boy is more like Abraxas than Lucius; he always prefered Abraxas' company to anyone else of Tom’s followers, except perhaps Orion and Alphard.

“I heard Harry Potter was-” the boy starts, before his eyes stops at Hadrian. “I know you! You’re our Lord’s-”

“Our Lord’s what, Malfoy?” Hadrian demands, furious at the implication that he’s anything less than himself. However true it may be.

But he’s their Lord’s nothing and Tom’s everything.

“I think you should leave.” Harry speaks up, his tone pleasant but his eyes glaring. The Malfoy boy hurriedly nods and leaves their compartment quickly.

* * *

Hadrian doesn’t speak for the rest of the train ride, nor as they take the boats to the castle, nor as they’re waiting for Harry’s name to be called. If it weren’t for Harry holding his hand and maneuvering him everywhere, Hadrian would likely still be sitting on the Hogwarts Express.

“Potter, Harry!” is called at last, by a woman Hadrian think was introduced as McGonagall. Harry drags him towards the stool as all the students are staring at them in silence. The whispers breaks out by the Slytherin table first and then spreads to the other tables.

When they stop in front of the teachers’ table, Hadrian’s head suddenly snaps up. He stares up directly at a nervous-looking man with an awful purple turban. Hadrian’s eyes barely glance over the man’s face before they get glued to the turban. He can feel Voldemort coming from there, he just knows it.

Harry tugs at his arm.

“Brother, I got sorted into Hufflepuff!” he says with a happy smile. Some of Hadrian’s eyes starts focusing on Harry, but his head is still staring in the direction of the unknown professor. Harry tugs at his arm again until he looks down.

“The hat wants to speak to you.” Harry explains. Hadrian can’t help but liken Harry to an angel in his mind; curly black hair and big innocent eyes.

“Thank you.” Hadrian says and forces himself to smile. He bends down and lets Harry put the hat on his head, as Tom once did.

_“I didn’t expect you back here.”_

_“Your dear Headmaster thought that Harry should be left with awful Muggles. I couldn’t leave him.”_

_“Just as much of a Hufflepuff as last time, but I see more of a Slytherin in you this time.”_

_“Are you re-sorting me, hat?”_

_“Hah! You are too loyal. No, I only wished to speak with you.”_

_“Then speak.”_

_“I want to warn you. Your loyalty might be your downfall.”_

Hadrian removes the sorting hat. He puts it on fire and drops it to the floor. The sorting hat just laughs. Hadrian stares at it until Harry drags him over to the Hufflepuff table to sit down.

The sorting hat’s laughter is the only sound in the Great Hall until one of the professors extinguish it.

It's undamaged. The sorting continues.

* * *

Hadrian sleeps in Harry’s bed that night, and sits next to Harry during breakfast. When professor Sprout hands them a schedule and all their lessons are with Slytherin, Hadrian laughs.

It’s just like the first time, yet so different.

* * *

That weekend finds Hadrian sitting on professor Quirrell's desk, waiting. Harry is off somewhere gossiping with Lavender, or Pansy, or both. Hadrian hasn’t been paying too much attention, too focused on Voldemort being nearby.

He did spare a moment to talk with Severus; God forbid that the traitor-spy does anything to his brother-child because of James Potter.

The candles in the office light up as Quirrell enters the office. Harian waves, his fingers moving almost flirtily.

“Hello, professor. May I talk to the back of your head?”

He ignores Quirrell’s spluttering stammers. He zones out slightly as he waits, and next thing he knows the purple turban has revealed a pair of red eyes and a face that is more monstrous than anything else.

“Hadrian.” Voldemort starts. “How… nice.”

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” Hadrian answers with a laugh. It sounds eerie. “You can’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

“You can help me.” Voldemort says, as if he just realised. Hadrian’s pleasant yet cold smile fades away to give place for burning glares.

“No.”

“No..? You dare…?”

“I belong to Tom, not to you.” Hadrian explains. “And I’ll never belong to you.”

“Then why are you here?” Voldemort demands.

“To warn you away from ever harming my child again.” Hadrian says, and leaves.

Voldemort is left confused, wondering when he harmed Harry. Hadrian was never talking about Harry; he was talking about Tom.

* * *

Hadrian entertains himself by re-exploring the castle while Harry goes through school. He finds a three-headed dog that he befriends, spends time talking to Salazar, and he finds a mirror.

The mirror is the thing to interest him the most. Hadrian disappears for months, sitting in front of the mirror, looking and wishing that it would be real.

He cries for the first time, sitting in front of the mirror of Erised.

* * *

“Hadrian?” Harry tugs at his arm. Hadrian blinks with all his eyes that can, and forces himself to turn his head away from the mirror.

“Harry?” he asks. His voice is raw.

“I missed you.” Harry confesses. “Let’s go back to the dorms, please?”

“Isn’t it after curfew?” Hadrian asks, although he has no sense of time. Harry grimaces slightly.

“It is. I got an invisibility cloak for Christmas and used it to explore.”

“I missed Christmas?” Hadrian blinks again, slower this time. He feels so lost.

“I’ll tell you everything.” Harry promises, and maneuvers him up and out of the room.

The mirror is not there the next time Hadrian enters the room.

* * *

Harry tucks the blankets around Hadrian as good as he can, and kisses Hadrian’s cheek. His poor brother has turned into himself again, and Harry can only leave him be. He’s happier knowing where Hadrian is at least.

He has never felt as lonely as he did when Hadrian was gone, although he’s not sure he should tell Hadrian that. At least he had the Runespoor to keep him company during the nights, but he’s not allowed to have his friend with him to lessons.

* * *

Lessons are fun, and Harry has friends in Lavender and Pansy. The two girls didn’t like each other at first - Harry finds the rivalry stupid - but he managed to make them realise that they both loves gossip. He loves gossip as well, and they also spend a lot of time giving each others make-overs. It’s fun, and he hopes they can have a real sleep-over during the summer break.

* * *

Harry is in the library studying when two Gryffindors - Ron and Hermione, he thinks - stops by his table.

“Hi! Do you want to sit?” he asks, and smiles at them. The two share a look before they sit down on each side of him. Harry can’t help but feel curious.

“Have you heard of Nicholas Flamel?” Hermione asks. Harry nods, even more curious now.

Ron and Hermione share a look again before they tell him all about the philosopher’s stone and how they think professor Snape are going to steal it tonight.

* * *

“I’m going on an adventure!” Harry excitedly tells Hadrian as he gets his invisibility cloak. He kisses Hadrian’s cheek and asks the Runespoor to protect Hadrian before he leaves. Ron and Hermione are waiting for him outside the Hufflepuff common room.

He hopes Hadrian will return soon, in case this adventure proves too big for them.

* * *

They have to get past a three-headed dog, a Devil’s Snare, flying keys, a giant chess game, and a logic puzzle with potions. There was also a troll, but someone else had already taken care of that. They lost Ron after the chess, and there’s only enough potion for one, so Harry has to go alone to the last room. He doesn’t mind.

Hadrian told him at the beginning of the school year that Voldemort was possessing the back of professor Quirrell’s head, so he thought he knew what to expect.

As Harry finds himself face to face with Voldemort for the first time, though his destined doesn’t have a body of his own, Death is looking through Hadrian’s documents back in the realm of monsters.

On a forgotten file the text clearly states that Harry James Potter is assigned Lord Voldemort.

Death laughs. Harry gives Voldemort a shaky smile and wonders if Hadrian has returned to awareness yet.

He might need to be rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have overlooked some mistakes, so please point them out to me!
> 
> Expect the last (or next last) chapter this month, but that's the only promise I'm making.
> 
> Please comment x


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